Any sweat young things out there who would like to go with me to revisit the
sites under more independent circumstances please feel free to write me at
nflb@writeme.com Or maybe you would
like to share a few winter weeks with me at my house
on the Gulf of Mexico.
Typical Switz valley near St. Bernard's Pass
Poppy Joe liked to regale me how the Switz government sought a way to make
their country prosperous and hit upon exporting dairy products. Since milk
spoiled before being sold they developed Swiss Cheese and Chocolate. Joey
then said he thought exporting Chocolate bars would be a good idea for NfLb
since we were far from market and had some good pasture land. He contended
that the Chocolate bar factory his government started failed because they
never mastered making top quality chocolate like the Switz did.
Traveling through the St. Bernard Pass we stopped at customs for over an
hour. It seems the old South African fellow had brought millions of dollars
and Switz customs was harassing him because he was South African. Later when
that fellow discovered that Zurich was only optional and not visited on this
trip, he left us for a day and flew to his bank in Zurich.
Switz rest stop view
During the long hot drive through central Switzerland we stopped at a tourist
chateau. It had this incredible view besides a lake. The mountains top was
so high that the bright sky hurt my eyes. The Sun shining in the blowing snow
made the almost vertical view even brighter.
Lake Geneva
Driving into Geneva we descended down the road and the tour guide told us
that we were coming upon the first bank which started Switzerland's
international banking industry. As the bank appeared from behind a giant
tree. Poppy Joe was merrily intoxicated and blurted out "That's my bank". He
immediately publically corrected himself saying that as Premier his
Government had done business with that bank. (Was this another decoy?)
As a prelude to disembarking Poppy Joe publically threatened me if I failed
to stick to his side at all times he would just leave me in Europe and
continue alone. At the stop he took this photo and made a point that I also
tell some bus companions that we were walking to the South side of Lake
Geneva. Vehicle traffic was not allowed on the abandoned streets there. Poppy
Joe popped into a bar for a drink, where I was too young to enter. I viewed
each postcard of several racks and poked my head in the bar and asked after
Poppy Joe. He had gone out a back door. This alarmed a slender fellow dressed
in black who ran in, back out, and quickly rode off on a bicycle.
I walked back towards the Lake where I reached the plaza at the edge of the
historical preservation zone. There was a circle of counters with tellers
exchanging Switz marks beneath the flags of the currencies they traded with.
Just then a black taxi drove up and Poppy Joe called out for me that the bus
would soon be leaving. The other tourists told me they went to a wonderful
palace, which Poppy Joe surely also knew about, and would not have missed it
without cause.
